


Inevitable

by Vera_dAuriac



Series: Brothers of Vere [2]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Auguste Lives, First Time, Gifts, M/M, Sibling Incest, courting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-29 11:45:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18222719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vera_dAuriac/pseuds/Vera_dAuriac
Summary: Once Auguste knows that Laurent wants him, he realizes his only recourse is to court his little brother.





	Inevitable

**Author's Note:**

> This follows directly on Picture This. I hadn’t been sure this would become a series, but I guess it’s at least two fics long now.
> 
> This checks off my Virginity square for CP Kink Bingo.
> 
> This probably could have used one more proofread. Please forgive the typos.
> 
> Don’t own these folks and all that.

**By Vera d’Auriac**

Auguste fought not to shiver when he recalled the feeling of his lips against Laurent’s lips. His _brother’s_ lips. They had been so soft and welcoming. It was a thing not done that they now contemplated, and yet Auguste thought about it constantly for a week. His inattention was even beginning to attract comment in council. Laurent thought about it every bit as much, he was certain, but Laurent was better at hiding his mind from the world, so Auguste was reasonably sure only he knew his brother had a new obsession. And that he was Laurent’s said new obsession.

But Auguste found that he needed Laurent— _physically_ needed him. He had, of course, watched Laurent blossom these past two years, transitioning elegantly from beautiful boy to handsome young man. In that time, the few occasions that Auguste had found himself lingering over his bother’s loveliness, he had told himself to not be stupid, and proceeded to spend the night with Roul, his pet who most resembled Laurent. He had assured himself this was not indecent in any way, but rather the most logical way to handle such urges.

That kiss in Laurent’s bed, though, that had changed everything. To discover not just that Laurent wanted him too, but to see Laurent, flushed all the way down to his hard, pink nipples with desire was something Auguste could not ignore. The only question was how to move forward. That night, he had certainly implied to Laurent that they could be together, but Auguste now wondered how and if that could happen. If it was what they both longer for, why should they deny it to themselves? They would simply have to be discreet. And Auguste would have to figure out how to make it perfect for Laurent.

Auguste trembled when he thought about being Laurent’s first. He did not know what percentage of aroused, nervous, and concerned was reflected in that tremble, but he knew he felt all those emotions and more when he contemplated taking his brother for his first time. He needed to make this beautiful for Laurent. This must be about so much more than assuaging lust.

And so Auguste decided to court his little brother.

He began with flowers since they had just started to bloom. Auguste did not know one flower from another, but he knew Laurent did, and that he liked anything blue or purple, so Auguste had pointed at a flowerbed and instructed the gardener to send some to Laurent’s room. When they had next seen each other, Laurent had blushed when thanking Auguste. In return, Auguste had whispered in his ear, “You can have anything you want. You only need ask.” Laurent had blushed more furiously and slipped into the crowd going into supper without saying a word.

Auguste’s next step in the courting process involved a trip to the finest bookseller in Arles and the purchase of a newly illustrated volume of Laurent’s favorite poet. Auguste had it wrapped and sent to Laurent’s room, but only after he inscribed it. When he met Laurent in the stables later, Laurent had looked at him positively wide-eyed. “’Beauty deserves beauty, and yet this falls short of you.’ What could you have been thinking?”

Throughout this speech, Laurent’s eyes had been searching over Auguste’s shoulder, but Auguste had told the stable boy that he wished to have a moment alone with his brother, so he knew they would not be interrupted. He traced his thumb across Laurent’s quivering bottom lip. “I was thinking I should woo you. Do you object?”

“Auguste. We cannot. We—”

“We can do as we wish. We will be discreet and no one need ever know.”

“And you find buying me books of poetry and including _that_ inscription discreet?”

“You are my brother. Why can’t I buy you nice things?” Auguste pushed his thumb over Laurent’s lip and pushed gently against the lower teeth behind. “And I told the stable boy we were not to be disturbed.”

Laurent gasped, which opened his clenched teeth that Auguste might rub his thumb over Laurent’s tongue. But Laurent’s mouth went slack and he stepped back, and Auguste’s hand fell to his side. “No. Not here. Not now.”

“Then later somewhere else.”

“No. Yes. I do not know.”

Auguste closed the space between them and now rested a calming hand on Laurent’s shoulder as he had done a million times. “Then I will help you figure it out. For now, let’s go for a ride.”

Two days later, once Laurent had gotten past the worst of his nervousness, Auguste sent another gift—a new dagger. It was the finest new blade Auguste had seen in a while, and a part of him wanted to keep it for himself. But the swordsmith had inlaid a sapphire in the pommel, and Auguste sent it to Laurent with a note remarking on how well the dagger would match his eyes.

This time, Laurent did not wait to run into Auguste by accident (or by Auguste’s design) but came directly to his rooms and threw out his secretary and Roul. The way Laurent’s eyes flashed when he held the new dagger up made Auguste grin at just how right he had been. “You look spectacular holding that.”

“You bought me a blade because it matches my eyes?” He slammed the dagger down on the table where Auguste sat. His breaths came fast on Auguste’s cheek as he propped himself up with shaking arms. “This is the most absurd thing I have ever seen.”

“If you feel so strongly about it, perhaps you should do something about it.”

Laurent grabbed Auguste by the front of his jacket and pulled him up. For a moment, Laurent hesitated, his eyes frantically darting from Auguste’s eyes to his lips. And then Laurent crushed his mouth to Auguste’s. Auguste responded immediately, his arms snaking around Laurent’s waist and pulling them close together. Laurent was already hard, and with the hungry way his tongue searched his mouth, Auguste had no doubt he would be hard in a moment, too.

“All I do is think about you,” Laurent panted between kisses. “I’ve become a man obsessed.” He kissed Auguste long and deep again before he continued. “I don’t know what to do without you.”

Auguste slid a steadying had up Laurent’s back and slipped it into his hair. He kissed Laurent more, just as passionately, but with control and intent and less random ferocity. Laurent sagged in his arms. “Then you shall have me,” Auguste whispered into Laurent’s mouth. “But not now. Take your dagger and go to your room and think about what you long for me to do to you.”

Laurent made a strangled noise reminiscent of a kitten, much like he had the night Auguste had found him with the sketch. “I want everything with you,” Laurent answered. “I already know that.”

Still, Auguste insisted, even though he was now painfully hard and wanted Laurent more than he had ever wanted any man or woman in his life. But he had a plan, even before Laurent had shown up with the dagger, and he wished to see it to completion. In three days, there would be a costume feast, and he knew precisely what he intended to have Laurent wear.

The following morning, Auguste sent the beginnings of his costume, along with the court tailor and a note:

_I wish to see you as Guarin, the great cavalry warrior of ancient poetry. Here is a start. (The dagger will go well, too, I think you’ll find.)_

_Love,_

_Auguste_

This time Laurent did not seek him out, so Auguste went looking for his brother when he heard the tailor had finished with him. Unsurprisingly, he found Laurent in the library, curled in a chair by a high window. As Auguste crossed the room, Laurent refused to look up from his book, pretending utter absorption, as though he did not know Auguste had entered. Auguste knew better, however. When he reached Laurent, he took the book away without a word and close it before tossing it on the window sill.

Laurent frowned up at him. “You lost my spot.”

“You weren’t reading it anyway.” Auguste leaned behind Laurent and propped himself up with a hand on the back of the chair. Their legs happened to press against each other. “Now, tell me what you think of my latest gifts.”

Laurent blushed and stared blindly out the window. “I already had a costume. And the new things you sent…I…did not need them.”

“New boots are always a treat,” Auguste purred. “Besides, you might have riding boots, but the traditional cavalry boots of that era are quite different.”

“They are black leather over my knees with gold buckles and decorative rivets.”

“It’s real gold, you know. I would never allow you to wear less.”

“And a riding crop?” Laurent now turned his gaze sharply on Auguste. “What am I supposed top make of you giving me a riding crop?”

Auguste smirked and leaned down to whisper his response into Laurent’s ear. “It was meant to get you thinking about what you might enjoy. Based on your reaction, I would say it is working quite well.”

The blush returned and a quick glance at Laurent’s lap revealed the erection Auguste was extremely anxious to do something about. He inhaled deeply and reminded himself he need wait but two more days. “Did the tailor say he would have the costume ready?”

Laurent cleared his throat. “Yes.”

“And will you wear it?”

Laurent’s eyes quickly flitted to Auguste’s face before returning to the window sill. “You know I will.”  
  
Auguste kissed Laurent’s cheek. “I look forward to seeing you.” And then Auguste departed the library in order to give the object of his affection a moment to collect himself. Also, he needed to find Roul immediately.

***

Laurent wanted to feel relaxed in his costume—it fit well, the tailor having done an excellent job as always, and yet, a great discomfort settled in his shoulders that he could not shake as he stood before the mirror examining himself. But he knew it was not the open collar and skin-tight leather pants that made him uncomfortable. It was knowing Auguste had wanted him to wear this, and he knew why.

Would tonight be the night? Something in Laurent told him that it would be. The costume, the crop and dagger, the admonitions to think about what he wanted. Tonight, Laurent would have sex, and he would do so with his brother. And it would be glorious.

The more thought Laurent had given the situation, even as part of him leaped to anger with Auguste for his forwardness with the gifts, Laurent knew this was right. He and Auguste loved each other, and if that love reached to attraction, whose business was it beyond their own? Laurent had made complete peace with his urges for Auguste, and he felt joy that those urges were returned, even if he still feared discovery. But he would risk it all, and most likely he would do so tonight, and he was ready for that but for one, single, tiny oversight—he still did not know what he wanted.

He wanted Auguste—that was not in doubt, but did he want Auguste to hit him with the riding crop, as had been hinted? He had run a few experiments in which he inflicted pain on himself while he pleasured himself. The results were inconclusive. He thought he might enjoy it if administered by Auguste, since angles surely played a role in these things. But still, he did not know. He felt, in fact, as though he knew nothing. Although, he trusted Auguste, and in the end, he harbored no doubts that would be enough.

Well, perhaps he harbored some doubts. And he tensed at the thought everyone who saw him in this costume would somehow guess what it meant to him and Auguste, even though the logical portion of his brain knew that was nonsense. If he could but only get the logical part of his brain working more regularly.

He still had not achieved this goal when a knock came on his door informing him that he was expected at the feast.

Many people seemed to turn and notice him when he walked in. As a prince, he was used to this reaction, but it set his heart racing tonight. And it was perhaps lucky that every eye was on him so only he would witness the naked lust on Auguste’s face. Laurent twitched his lips in almost a smile at his brother, took a deep breath, and entered, greeting people as etiquette dictated.

He took his time making his way across the room to his brother, intentionally stopping to talk where Auguste would have a good line of sight. Laurent even made certain to turn in directions so that Auguste might inspect him from all angles. People spoke, and he knew that he responded to them, but his every thought was bent on Auguste. Soon, he would stand next to his brother, sit down beside him to eat, and then what would Auguste say to him? Laurent had to fight a tremble in his limbs as he contemplated this. He found it even more frustrating that every time he looked up to where Auguste sat surveying the room from the royal table, his brother seemed utterly unperturbed, as if everything would not change between them tonight. Perhaps tonight would not be the night; perhaps Laurent was wrong.

Finally, the platters of food were brought in, and Laurent rushed to take his place next to Auguste, as he so needed to do.

“You’re even more stunning than I expected,” Auguste whispered as he lazily embraced Laurent in a seemingly innocent welcome. But the heat of his hand on Laurent’s back, the warmth of breath on his cheek, they had Laurent stirring in his too tight pants. He found himself quite grateful it was time to sit.

“Not entirely sure what I should do with this while I eat.” Laurent slapped the riding crop on the low table between them. He knew it was a provocative move, but somehow being in Auguste’s presence after he had looked at Laurent so wantonly made Laurent bold. “Do you have any ideas what might be done with it?”

“Smack you across the mouth,” Auguste hissed as he gripped the edge of the table until his fingers turned white.

Their father sat on the other side of Auguste and spent the entire meal entertaining a visiting ambassador. Twice, he asked Auguste to weigh in on some issue, but the first time Auguste was stammering in his answer and the second time he did not appear to hear his father at all, and so the king did not address him again during the meal. That left Laurent with Auguste’s full attention, and the two of them wound each other up with innuendo, brushing touches, and softly whispered filth. By the time dessert arrived, both of them had been painfully hard for more of the preceding two hours than not.

Auguste’s favorite pet, Roul, crawled under the table, popping up to rest his chin on Auguste’s thigh just as Auguste was about to pass a cream puff between his lips. Auguste froze, the cream puff hovering before his open mouth. Laurent longed to bring his riding crop down on the intrusive fool’s head.

“Mightn’t I have a bite?” Roul asked, batting his eyelashes at Auguste. “You haven’t fed me all night.”

“I thought I sent word that I would not require you or any of my other pets tonight,” Auguste said, and Laurent could see the pains he went to in order to remain civil, but he doubted Roul truly knew Auguste well enough to notice it.

“You did,” Roul simpered. “But I missed you. Are you _sure_ you require nothing?” He leered at the obvious erection in Auguste’s pants and licked his lips. “I would be more than happy to take care of that, for instance.”

Auguste pushed the cream puff through Roul’s lips. “I’m fine. But thank you for the offer. I promise to send if and when I require anything.”

Roul licked a stray bit of cream from the corner of his mouth in a manner Laurent could only describe as lewd. “You know I’m always available, your highness.”

“Yes.”

Roul sighed, but slinked back under the table and disappeared.

“I need to fuck you now,” Auguste whispered out of the corner of his mouth without turning to look at Laurent. “Let’s go.”

“Now?” Laurent asked. He might be as eager as Auguste, but the meal had barely ended and the bulk of the entertainment had yet to begin. “We can’t. We will be missed. We mustn’t draw attention. We must wait at least until the entertainment is well underway.”

“How long are you thinking?”

“Several hours, at least.”

“Then I had better have Roul back to suck me off, because I will never be able to tolerate hours like this.”

And yet, somehow, through some magic driven by need, they performed their princely duties well enough that Laurent did not think anyone noticed how their legs pressed together under the table, or their lingering touches, or the way both shuddered ever so slightly when the one whispered in the other’s ear. Late into the evening when everyone was drunk on wine and lust, Auguste said again, “Let us go now.”

Laurent looked around, the formal entertainment now talented musicians relegated to the background noise, which always made him feel a little bad. Everyone seemed to either be indulging in some bit of carnality or preparing to do so. If Auguste and he remained much longer chatting with each other, actually listening to the music, it would draw more attention than if they left, especially Auguste, who had three pets, all of whom were available for his pleasure at this moment.

“Should we leave separately?” Laurent asked, stomach fluttering as the reality of what was proposed seemed poised to occur any moment now.

“Perhaps. Shall you leave first?”

“No. There are too many people, and pets, who might approach you if you’re alone. No one will want to keep me here.”

Auguste squeezed his thigh under the table. “That is only because they do not know you as I do.”

Laurent couldn’t help but look at Auguste, feeling the blood rush away from and back into his face in a confused flux. “You are sure? We can still not do this. So far, nothing between us has irrevocably changed.”

The hand on his thigh now gently stroked as Auguste smiled sweetly at him. “I’m as sure as you are, little brother. I will push you into nothing, but know that if you come to my rooms, I will be waiting for you.”

***

Auguste felt almost as much like a blushing virgin as Laurent. When he returned to his rooms, he once more assured himself that Orlant would guarantee their privacy, and then paced awkwardly. He checked the bedside table for oil and phalluses, scarves, and washcloths. He lit extra candles, and then blew them out. He kicked off his boots and removed his wide belt. He stopped in front of the mirror to check his hair and the tie of his tunic at his throat. He had gone to the festival in a comfortable Vaskian costume, and he decided that he might as well undo a few more of the laces at his throat.

Laurent’s throat had been extraordinary all evening. He’d felt foolish, the amount of time he had spent watching out of the corner of his eye as his brother swallowed his food. But he’d so rarely had the opportunity to observe Laurent’s magnificent throat, and he could not forego the chance tonight. And all the while as Laurent sat at his side close enough Auguste could feel his heat through the pants that fit like a second skin, he had been able to observe his brother move and talk. He could smell Laurent. It had to happen tonight. Auguste could wait no longer.

A soft knock came on his door, and before Auguste could respond, Laurent pushed open the door just wide enough to slip inside. He was still in the act of closing the door when Auguste stalked across the room, and Laurent barely turned around in time for Auguste to push his back against the wall. He tried to gasp, but August took a tight grip on his chin to make it simpler to crush their mouths together. Laurent sagged, but August held him up with the force of his passion.

But even he could not keep this going indefinitely, and he had to pull away, panting against Laurent’s cheek, desperate to catch his breath. “On the bed. I need you on the bed. Naked.” He fiercely claimed his mouth once more, entirely with Laurent’s assent. He trembled with possibility.

When he broke the kiss again, Laurent laughed through his wet lips. “Well, if you want me on the bed, perhaps—”

Auguste didn’t allow Laurent to finish what would surely have been a sarcastic response, but instead yanked him by one of his slender wrists and catapulted him toward the bed. He bumped against the end, but maintained his feet. For the merest moment, Laurent was able to look back at Auguste in stunned amusement before Auguste pushed him sprawling on his back across the mattress.

“You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” Auguste declared from his knees between Laurent’s legs, his hands stroking the shining new boots. Impulsively, he raised Laurent’s left calf to his mouth, and he kissed the well-oiled leather. Draping his ankle over his shoulder, Auguste pierced his brother with his eyes, wishing he might devour Laurent in every manner possible. Laurent shuddered under his gaze, and in that movement, Auguste noticed how hard Laurent strained at the lacing of his pants. Auguste reached up and rubbed a hand over his erection, sending a shaking moan through Laurent’s body. “The great irony of well-tailored clothes—the better you look in them, the more desperate your lover is to get you out of them.”

Laurent threw his head back, eyes closed with lust. “Say that again.”

“Which part?” Auguste asked, as he let the leg slide farther over his shoulder so that he might get both of his hands on the offensive lacing holding in Laurent’s cock.

“Lover. Call me your lover again.”

Auguste pressed his mouth hard and swift to the inside of Laurent’s thigh. “Lover. You are about to become my lover.”

Laurent could not stand Auguste’s pace, and he pulled his other leg up to start removing that boot while Auguste worked the lacing. When Laurent’s cock sprang free, Auguste couldn’t stop himself from putting his mouth around it. Laurent sighed gloriously as the heel of his other boot dug into Auguste’s back. It hurt wonderfully.

And good as it was—Laurent’s taste, his moans, the way his body writhed—this was not what Auguste had intended. If the idea was to make this night perfect for Laurent, he couldn’t get sidetracked from his plan in the first five minutes. He gave the cock one last hard suck and let it drop from his mouth. Getting the other boot and the pants off mattered far more than having Laurent in his mouth. Right?

“Why did you stop?” Laurent asked, once he caught his breath and Auguste was pulling off his boot. “That was the most amazing thing I ever felt.”

Auguste stood so that it might be easier for him to yank the pants off Laurent in one hard tug. He now lay in the bed with the dagger belt around his tunic, naked from the waist down. He was superb. “You haven’t felt anything yet.”

Laurent bit his lip, sparkling eyes searching Auguste in anticipation. His want stunned Auguste, and he had to look away. The riding crop he had bought Laurent as part of the costume lay on the bed beside Laurent’s fingers that had now found purchase in the blanket. Auguste took up the crop, wondering if Laurent would like the sensation of its sting on his body. Auguste longed to know, but again, this needed to wait for another night. Still, he couldn’t help but tease Laurent just a little, so he took up the crop and used it to push the already gaping neck of Laurent’s tunic farther open. He exposed one nipple and dragged the tip of the crop roughly across. Laurent’s eyes went wide as he hissed.

“Yes, one of these days, I’m going to help you experience every sensation imaginable.” He shifted to the other nipple and pushed even harder. “Be sure to hold onto this.” Auguste snapped the crop hard on the mattress next to Laurent, who jumped, but Auguste didn’t think it was because he was scared.

Auguste now looked at the dagger on Laurent’s belt, and he shivered. “We can even try out my other gift sometime if you wish,” he said as he went to work removing the belt, in part so Laurent would have no question to which other present he referred. “But tonight, we just need to get you naked.” He dropped the belt on the floor before pulling Laurent up and yanking the tunic over his head. He couldn’t breathe for a moment as he took in Laurent’s naked body. “Help me undress, and I will make you feel things you have only felt in your dreams.”

Laurent leaped to his feet and tore at Auguste’s laces at waist and throat. They kissed and trembled, and soon Auguste stood before Laurent equally naked. They soaked in the view of the other before wrapping each other in a tight embrace and falling on the bed in a tangle of limbs and passion.

***

Auguste’s mouth in his cock had been an absolute revelation. Laurent understood the mechanics and possibilities of sex well enough and had, of course, experimented on himself to a certain extent, but the glory of a warm, wet mouth on his cock had no substitute. And he had never wanted it to end, wanted to yell and scream, to throw a tantrum if that would get his dick back in his brother’s mouth. But Auguste had other ideas, and when he scraped the riding crop across his nipples, Laurent was willing to see what these other ideas might entail.

“On the bed,” Auguste whispered into Laurent’s mouth. “Up at the top. Stretch out for me like a beautiful cat lazing in the sun.”  
  
Laurent couldn’t help raking his nails down Auguste’s upper arm. “Claws in or out?”

Auguste gave him another bruising kiss, pressing their bodies tightly together, their erections smearing their eagerness on stomach and hip. “Out,” Auguste panted, leading the way around to the head of the bed. “Always out.”

The answer excited Laurent more then he could explain, but Auguste’s every reaction made Laurent certain he had no need to. Physically, he might be learning everything and they were both learning each other, but they already understood so much about the other’s soul. That meant Auguste surely knew just how much he wanted this, wanted Auguste inside him.

Auguste gently pushed Laurent onto the bed and pulled open the top drawer. Laurent laid on his side watching, breath held waiting for the wonders to be revealed. But all Auguste removed were a couple jars of oil, which Laurent well knew the use of. Not that he was disappointed. He longed to feel everything with Auguste, but tonight, he just wanted his brother—no additions, no complications, just Auguste.

“Yes, please,” Laurent said wiggling onto his side, facing Auguste.

Auguste twisted the lid off one and tugged out the cork of the other, all while grinned down at Laurent in a way that made his body feel warm. “You lovely, eager boy. You are a vision. Now, let’s see how beautiful you are when I touch you.”

Laurent help his breath as Auguste sat on the edge of the bed and coated some of his fingers with oil. And then Auguste lay out facing him, and just as their lips met once more, an oiled finger slipped between his cheeks and circled gently at his entrance. Laurent could barely maintain the kiss or breathe, the anticipation and already glorious sensation nearly too much. Still, Auguste did not push inside, and Laurent was now panting, unable to keep his lips pressed to his brother’s. He whined in frustration and bit Auguste’s lower lip. Auguste laughed and claimed his mouth once more and finally pushed inside.

Laurent groped at Auguste’s shoulders, digging his fingertips in, looking for any purchase on sanity he might find. He’d had his own fingers inside before, and even tried a phallus he had one of the pets at court procure for him, but nothing before had felt like Auguste did now. The angle and depth were different for starters, but it was Auguste’s ability to know where and how to touch him that made this as unlike sunlight from moonlight. Laurent gasped and whined and for a passing moment he thought of how ridiculous he must sound, but he could not help himself—he could contain these noises no better than he could tell his cock to stop aching or his nails to release their grip on Auguste’s back.

“All this, and it’s still only one finger,” Auguste whispered. Laurent could feel Auguste’s breath on his face, knew his brother must be looking right at him, but he was too overwhelmed to open his own eyes. “You’re the most beautiful sight I’ve ever witnessed. Do you want more?”

“Yes. Everything. I want everything.”

Auguste fucked him with a gently twisting finger and brushed their lips together. “Open your eyes, Laurent. I need to say something.”

Laurent did as he was bid. Auguste’s blue eyes sparkled before him, and Laurent shivered. “Yes?”

“This feels good?” He moved his finger more inside.

“Yes.” Laurent’s eyes fluttered shut of their own accord.

“Look at me.”

Laurent forced his eyes back open.

“If it ever doesn’t, you promise must to say something.”

Laurent knew to expect a certain amount of discomfort, even pain. This was Vere, after all—the mechanics of anal sex were hardly a mystery to anyone, especially someone raised at court. “Of course,” he answered.

“There’s no ‘of course,’ Laurent. I could never hurt you.”

The truth and love in Auguste’s eyes nearly brought tears to Laurent’s own. “Yes. I promise.” He leaned forward and kissed Auguste with a mix of tenderness and passion he prayed would communicate just how much he felt. The pressure and warmth with which Auguste returned the kiss made Laurent believe he did.

With this assurance, Auguste slowly pushed a second finger in to join the first. Somehow it felt like more than just a doubling, and Laurent held his breath and tensed, willing himself to stand the two fingers that were not even as big as Auguste’s cock. He needed to do this if Auguste was ever going to fuck him, and Laurent wanted that more than anything.

Auguste’s other hand stroked Laurent’s hair, and he whispered, “Relax. It will make it easier, I swear.”

Laurent concentrated hard on relaxing, but it only made him more tense, made what ought to feel good, hurt. He was ready to scream in frustration when Auguste’s lips began exploring his throat, the hand in his hair still lightly petting him. The sensation felt lovely, and soon Laurent was lost in the biting and kissing at his neck. Auguste stopped and sucked on Laurent’s collarbone just to the left of the hollow of his throat. His cock ached with want and he sighed and whimpered with desire. It wasn’t until Auguste twisted and then scissored his fingers that Laurent realized the attention to his neck and throat had been a distraction to relax him. Auguste was even more brilliant than Laurent had realized.

“I could watch your face all night while I do this,” Auguste said, pausing to lick Laurent’s lips. “But I think it will be more comfortable for you on your stomach now.”

Laurent kissed his brother, wet and sloppy because he had not the ability to concentrate and make it neater. Then he slipped down onto his stomach, which allowed Auguste’s fingers to push more deeply within. The fingers curled, and Laurent howled into the pillow.

“That really is the best part of this,” Auguste said, smiling against his shoulder. He brushed the spot again, and even though Laurent was ready this time, he still groaned loudly, his dick thrusting into the mattress of its own accord. “Try not to spend yet, though. I want you to do that when it’s my cock hitting that spot.”

Laurent growled, nothing soft and sweet about his need now. The very idea of what Auguste proposed made him want to spend this exact second. How could Auguste expect him to wait? “Soon. You need to fuck me soon, then.”

Auguste’s fingers worked in and out, twisted, and he hummed a bit. “Not quite yet. You need more, little brother.” Auguste licked the back of his neck. “I will make this perfect for you.”

Laurent clenched his jaw and lifted his hips up, in part to fuck himself harder onto Auguste’s fingers and in part to eliminate the friction of the bed on his throbbing cock. “Hurry. Please.”

Auguste dragged his lips softly along the top of Laurent’s back, his fingers still working, and Laurent wondered if this was another diversionary tactic. He could not decide if he wanted to know, or if he wanted to concentrate on Auguste’s fingers so that he could not be distracted, or if he wanted to get out of his own mind and just _feel_. There were so many sensations, so many of them new, and Laurent loved every one of them. And yet he longed for more, longed for one sensation in particular. Surely, Auguste would give it to him soon.

“More, Auguste,” Laurent begged. “More. At least try another finger. I need you.”

Auguste nipped at Laurent’s shoulder blade and actually did as requested and added the third finger. Laurent had never been so full, not even with the phallus. He fell down on the bed, then pushed back, then trembled, had no concept of what he ought to do. Strange noises were escaping him again, but he’d never cared so little for what he sounded like.

“Does it still feel good?” Auguste whispered as he pushed sweaty hair from Laurent’s eyes.

“So…much,” he whimpered in return. “It’s just so much.”

“ _Too_ much?”

Laurent shook his head.

And so Auguste continued to work him open, Laurent’s thoughts scattered somewhere in his mind, but they could not coalesce because of the sensations coursing through his body.

He could not say how long this went on—time becoming meaningless when compared to the pain in his cock, the sweat on his skin, his fullness. And then it was suddenly gone. He burned, and yet, he was empty. He wanted to cry, rage, scream. But Auguste’s hand fell onto his shoulder, and through the confusion he heard Auguste ask, “Are you ready?”

Laurent whined and nodded his head. Auguste moved between his legs, and then there was the slick head of his cock at Laurent’s entrance. When he had oiled himself, Laurent couldn’t say, but he had been aware of nothing but his own body for a length of time he did not know how to measure. Auguste did not hesitate, and a breath later, his strong hands on Laurent’s hips, he began to slowly push inside.

And at that point, Laurent lost all sense of himself. He pushed back with a howl, bit his lips, clawed at the pillow, no idea what he should or could do with himself. Life boiled down to blind instinct, and that instinct told him to push back and meet the thing responsible for making him feel this way. Auguste spoke, but Laurent couldn’t understand a word over the rush in his ears and his own moans. All he could manage was to continue to thrust back so that Auguste would be in no doubt that he wanted this.

And then Auguste draped himself over Laurent’s back, the angle changed, and as promised, his cock hit the spot within Laurent, and he screamed as Auguste reached around and took Laurent’s dripping cock in his hand. One tug, two thrusts, and Laurent was spending in great waves as though this were his first orgasm as well as his last. He howled and trembled, and Auguste twitched behind him and as Laurent collapsed to the bed, he felt Auguste falling with him as he spent.

Once more Laurent lost his sense of time and surroundings, but eventually he became aware of the cool, sticky mess he lay in, Auguste’s hot breath on the nape of his neck, the gentle ache where his body was yet entwined with Auguste’s. He had made love. It was the most glorious thing in the world.

Auguste kissed the side of Laurent’s neck. “How are you, Laurent?”

“Splendid,” he hummed. “Stupendous. Magnificent. Delightful.”

He giggled and Auguste chuckled softly as he planted more kisses along Laurent’s neck and upper back. “You are the most amazing and beautiful thing in all the world.”

“If I am, it is because you made me so.”

One more soft kiss from Auguste preceded him shifting slightly. Laurent sighed, knowing what was next, but not yet wanting it. “I have some towels and washcloths ready for us on the nightstand. Let me clean you up.”

“You’ll have to pull out.”

Auguste kissed him several more times. “It’s rather inevitable.”

Of course, Laurent knew this, but somehow the night—nay, their entire courtship beginning with Auguste finding him with the sketch—had been so magical he thought perhaps the inevitable did not apply to them. After all, they had flouted the rules of society and done as they wished, taking their pleasure where they desired it. Rules of decorum and nature should not apply to them. They were different; their love made them so. They might remain entangled for eternity if they chose.

“Laurent?”

“Just one more minute.” Laurent took his brother’s hand and kissed it, before hugging it tightly to his chest. “We can spare just another minute.”


End file.
